


Dean's Downfall

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First time thoughts on Wincest, M/M, Mark of Cain, Season Ten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3652227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam goes to see the cockroach movie and Dean re-discovers things about his demon time he'd rather forget, first in line his unsettling desire to have sex with his little brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's Downfall

During his thirty-six years of life, the only orders Dean Winchester had willingly obeyed were those issued by his dad, and Dean knew there was enough childhood psychological crap behind THAT to give a psychoanalyst a wet dream, but when Sam gave him one he totally ignored it, if they weren't caught up in the danger of a hunt that is.

After Sam had gone off to see the French avant-garde film recommended by the New York Times about a 'miming' cockroach or whatever, something only his geek brother could ever consider spending good money on a ticket for, he totally disregarded Sam's “ Don't go into my room!” warning and wandered down the tiled corridor towards his sibling's bedroom.

He wondered if Sam had an up-to-date stash of porn hidden away under his pillow he didn't want Dean to see, but the elder man shook his head at the absurdity of it.  
Sam was a red-blooded dude like himself but he did his frigging best to give the opposite impression, as if porn and checking out girls wasn't worthy of a nerd.

He reflected on how complimentary they were; each other's opposite in many ways yet they fitted together seamlessly like a key in a lock, or a sword in a sheath.  
Though, he sighed; he sincerely doubted any two siblings had such a fucked up relationship, unable to let go even when death called one of them away, or worse, they became a demon!

What was it he'd said to Castiel after Sam had administered the human blood cure? That Sam forgiving him for trying to kill him with a hammer was just one of the grotesque aspects of his and Sam's relationship. 

 

Half way along the corridor he halted.  
This was the spot where he'd caught up with Sam that day, when Sam had put the demon-killing knife to his throat.  
Dean wasn't sure if Sam had pulled the knife back because his little brother preferred dying himself to killing his demonic big brother, or if he'd pulled back simply because he'd glimpsed Castiel behind him and understood there could be a happy ending to this entire story now that the powerful angel had appeared.

Dean's memories of those past months were complete, he hadn't forgotten one instant of what he'd done as a demon, especially the embarrassment of hanging out with Crowley, but they were nothing compared to the ones he was trying to erase from his mind, the ones he'd had about Sam.

 

When he'd seen Sam walk into the bar set on his 'holy' mission to save his big brother, Dean had garnered enough control to try and get him to leave, but Sam was one of the most stubborn humans on the planet and now that he'd found Dean, there was no way Sammy was letting go, and that's when the dark desires towards his baby brother had set in. 

From the moment Sam had put the demon trap-incised hand cuffs on him, he'd wanted nothing else than to throw his self-sacrificing little brother to the ground and stake his claim on him, any feeble control he'd had back in the bar gone.

During the drive to the bunker and throughout the interminable pain of the human blood injections, Dean had felt the craving for his little brother increase a thousand fold, and when he'd said the words, “What I'm going to do to you , Sammy.......” the image he'd had in mind was of a naked Sam laid out at his mercy; a blank canvas waiting for Dean to design himself all over it, to mark his brother as his own, to use him until Sam saw only Dean, wanted only Dean, saw nothing and no-one else but Dean.

Even now, supposedly human, he could feel the beguiling tendrils of arousal permeate his entire body. 

He'd tried to push those thoughts and feelings down into the darkest depths of his soul but now that he'd allowed his mind to dwell on them, the desire he'd felt for Sam was flaring up again.

Dean was horrified, why was he still thinking of Sam in that way?  
But as he swallowed down the lump in his throat to try and control the rush of desire, the Mark on his arm began to itch and wriggle as if there was a maggot moving underneath the skin.

So that was it, he might be nominally human, but until he bore the Mark, there would always be a part of him that responded to the evil it represented. And if wanting to have debauched sex with your little brother counted as evil then the Mark was on board.

 

He continue shakily down to Sam's room, his imagination flooding his mind with snapshots of Sam prostrate on the bed, at his mercy; images so arousing that Dean couldn't banish them from his mind.  
He threw open the door and collapsed onto Sam's bed, burrowing his head in the pillow rife with the scent of his brother.  
His hand went to his groin and he loosened his jeans letting his cock bob free. As he stroked and fisted, a part of him was revelling in the oncoming orgasm the lewd images of his so desirable brother was fuelling, while another part was suffused with guilt at using Sam to jerk off.

The image of Sam's body taking Dean's cock in his mouth while looking up at him with adoring eyes, sealed his downfall.  
He'd let the genie out of the bottle and Dean knew it was never going to go back in.

His desire for Sam had consolidated itself in the world-shattering orgasm he'd just experienced and he wondered how he was going to look his baby brother in the eyes when he saw him.  
If he'd thought they were fucked up before, he'd just added another layer to it all.

 

When Dean heard his brother enter the bunker a few hours later, he tucked himself further under the covers, like a small child trying to banish a nightmare.  
The desire to get up and throw himself at Sam was almost overwhelming, but he wouldn't, couldn't do that to Sam.  
He took deep calming breaths to try and still the lust that stirred his loins. Perhaps with the morning, he'd get things under control.

He hoped to hell he could, but as if to taunt him, the mark flared up on his arm, telling him there was no escape!

The end


End file.
